Redundant Coc and Pussy Taeover

1. Steve's Story:

I was made redundant a couple of years ago when I was 51. The large company I'd spent the previous three decades working for had been taken over and, as usual, layers of management got stripped out during the restructuring process. Fortunately I got a modest lump sum payoff and my pension will kick in when I'm 55.

I'm also lucky enough to have a successful wife, Beth, who owns her own recruitment business. She's been our primary bread-winner since we met, so the loss of my income was more of a practical issue than a serious financial concern. We'd always kept our own separate bank accounts and shared the bills; I paid all our household utilities, maintenance, insurance, cars. Beth purchased the weekly shop, food, domestic stuff and most restaurant, theatre trips, etc.

We are both on our second marriages; I was married out of college and my ex-wife and I separated once our son had left home at 18. Beth was married to somebody briefly but her career got in the way. She's never had kids, nor wanted to be a mother or housewife. I'm now 53 now and Beth is 38, a fifteen year age gap.

Sexually, we hit it off from the start. Aged 26 when we met, Beth already had an extensive 'past', a high libido and an open-mind. She's the 'work hard, play hard' type; she goes to the gym, plays tennis, occasional hikes, as well as partying and fun. She still has the trim, fit body of a girl in her twenties.

Looks-wise, think that actress Anna Kendrick (from the 'Pitch Perfect' and 'Twilight' franchises and that 'Up in the Air' movie) and you have a picture of Beth; she has turquoise-blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair, high cheekbones and freckles. Her mouth is mesmerising, anything from a ready smile to fierce determination, according to her mood, with thin lips and a pout. She's as likely to kiss as she is to snarl.

Beth and I couldn't get enough of each other; in bed, around the house, and even outdoors! She liked to role-play. She liked bondage, and even explored submission. But Beth would only ever submit in the bedroom and, even there, she topped from the bottom. I, on the other hand, tried playing dominant but was basically submissive to her, sexually at least. Over the years, we settled into our fixed roles; Beth acting as my Domme, me as her sub. And over time, things developed outside of the bedroom.

By the time I was made redundant, we'd fitted a kind of 'Mistress-slave' dynamic into our busy lives, mostly at weekends. We were also comfortable talking about our more extreme fantasies, even if we'd held back on making some of them reality. Like any couple, we went through a few downs as well as ups. It wasn't all roses. I'm a different personality to Beth. She's an all or nothing person.

The day after my 52nd birthday, I became her company's first male employee. Beth has a team of female staff who focus on search-based recruitment of female executives, obviously within gender discrimination laws. Her market niche is strategically helping companies find senior women executives and female non-executive directors.

My role is much more mundane. I'm the company chauffeur, admin clerk, and research assistant. We explained it to Beth's colleagues that I would be "learning the business from the ground up". So like Robert de Niro's character in that movie, 'The Intern', I'm an older guy in an office full of driven, younger women.

But the truth is that we'd decided to adapt our weekend Mistress-slave roles into a 24/7 full time relationship. I drive Beth to work and to meetings with her sitting in the backseat, making business calls, etc. I sometimes drive her colleagues too. I do basic internet work at the office; searching linked-in sites or uploading job content. I do filing and photocopying. I sit alongside the two Receptionist-Secretaries. People were quietly a bit shocked at first. But after 18 months I'm now part of the furniture, the same as Robert de Niro's character in the Intern movie.

What people don't know is that under my chauffeur's suit, I wear a steel chastity tube 24/7. Beth and I used to sometimes play with chastity but it was basically just tease-and-denial, which ended with me having a delicious orgasm. Things are now very different indeed. I'd always fantasised about long-term chastity but never seriously considered making it reality. But, as I said, Beth is an all-or-nothing person. She doesn't want to "play any more", as she puts it. She loves having total power over my cock, orgasms and sex life. And I've learned to love handing that control over to her.

The other big change in our lives is that Beth has a boyfriend. I will admit that I'd never fantasised about cuckolding. Maybe everything else in the Fem-Domme arena, yes, but not sharing my woman. But Beth was resolute. It was her fantasy and I had to let her try it at least. It turned out she had the guy identified, everything. Somebody also married, so he'd be as keen on discretion as we were. Reluctantly, I agreed to drive her to a hotel, wait a couple of hours for her, and let her meet this guy named John.

Those 90 minutes sat in a car park were the hardest of my adult life. I was dressed in a suit and my Mature Metal cock cage. Every second dragged by like an hour. Images of Beth's naked body, sweaty hair, open mouth and spread pussy wouldn't go away. Yes, she'd slept with plenty of men before we met and one part of my brain said that one more would make no physical difference. I knew she'd be practising safe sex too. But another part of my brain was frying.

However, the 90 minutes that followed her return to the car were the most erotic of my life. I think a male sexual submissive has two goals; firstly to satisfy his own need for humiliation, masochism and being controlled, according to that individual's own personal fetish list. But secondly, it's to please his Dominant, and to see her not just satisfied, but elated. Beth had just come from lunchtime sex with another guy but she'd never been as horny and in need of me before. We drove to a secluded spot and I went down on her, making her howl like a banshee. Then we drove home and she unlocked my cock and we fucked like crazed rabbits all afternoon. Over the next few days, what had happened didn't hurt our marriage. It actually brought us together, rather than pushing us apart. She was romantic and reassuring.

The second time was easier. There'd been no question there'd be a second time. Within a few days, Beth asked my permission. She said it was the last time she'd ask me. It could be a one-off. But assuming I said yes, there'd be no going back afterwards. All or nothing. I replied it was up to her. She said that wasn't good enough. It had to be my choice. I said I wanted her to continue.

What started out as occasional, became fortnightly, and is now once, even sometimes twice, a week. Her boyfriend is 5 years younger than Beth, married, and extremely good looking. They always meet in the same hotel. I have never witnessed them having sex. None of the three of us wants that kind of 'cliché cuckold' scene. He knows about me. I know about him. That's enough for us.

But what has changed is Beth's attitude. She's quickly became much more confident in her role and in my acceptance of it. She doesn't get off on using humiliating language or taunting me. Instead, she simply treats me like a chauffeur, an employee, and she's my very offhand, disinterested boss. "The hotel." She'll say, as she settles into the back of the car. "Wait here", as she walks into the lobby, without looking back once. Sometimes she's gone for half an hour, sometimes an entire afternoon, or evening. "Drive." She says, when she eventually returns, either telling me to take her back to the office, or to another appointment, or home. She makes no mention of how long she's been up there with him or what they've been doing.

Sometimes, she texts my phone and tells me to grab a snack from the corner shop near the car park. I know she's in the hotel restaurant or bar or having room service and so she'll be a while. Other times she lets me go hungry. I just sit in the car, images floating in my brain. But unlike the first time when I suffered too much angst to feel horny, I now burn with increasing sexual frustration and the ache of my metal cage preventing an erection.

I both love and hate living in chastity. I suspect most guys suffering the reality of chastity feel the same way. It heightens your sexual awareness and sex drive up to incredible levels. It makes you incredibly submissive and keen to please your Keyholder-Mistress. And your eventual orgasms are incredibly powerful, even if they're 'ruined'. You start to feel a weird pride in how long you can go without, like an athlete improving his Personal Best.

But the sacrifices you make are immense too. Although in my early fifties, I still have, and always have had, a high libido (one of the reasons for my divorce from my first wife was our unequal libidos, and one of the attractions of Beth to me was our compatibility in that regard). To surrender the ability to sneak off for a quick release when you feel like one is a truly life-changing adjustment. To give anybody else, even your wife, the power to decide if, when, where and how you cum is so much easier imagined than actually done.

What makes it bearable is that Beth is as 'into it' as I am. Her relish of my frustration actually gives me strength. If she was like, "meh, whatever", then I think we'd both have got bored of it by now. But she never ignores me. She simply pretends to. Her attitude and aloofness as my boss, and unfaithful wife, are an act that we both secretly enjoy immensely. So the hassle, frustration and occasional discomfort of wearing a steel CB literally 24/7 are worth it.

Beth's favourite part of sex is the moment of penetration and those first few thrusts. After that, she doesn't dislike it, but it doesn't turn her on. She almost never reached orgasm with me from penetrative intercourse. For years, we settled into a routine very quickly where I'd make her orgasm with my fingers after I'd cum inside her. Or sometimes I'd make her climax first, with my mouth and fingers, before finishing myself inside her.

That was our sexual routine. Even when we role-played and used bondage, we stuck to versions of that technique for years. Eventually Beth started telling me go down on her after I'd cum inside her, but only a few times.

But our routine changed after I became her employee at work. Beth adapted our sex to suit her needs, not mine. After a lot of foreplay, I'd penetrate her for about 30 seconds, and then she'd tell me 'enough'. She would be turned on by then and ready for me to make her cum orally, usually a couple of times. Then I'd ice my cock and she'd lock it back up, without any orgasm for me.

Another change was analingus. Beth was always ambivalent about rimming. She'd had anal sex with a few guys, and even tried it with me, but basically she's a 2-hole, not a 3-hole, lady; pussy and mouth. No anal. And she made it very clear early on that she'll never tongue my ass. If I wanted to kiss her butt occasionally, well that was up to me, but she was always self conscious about cleanliness, bodily functions. Basically, analingus wasn't something we did.

But that all changed once she became my fulltime Domme. Beth now loves being rimmed. Her favourite is sitting on my face while she watches porn and masturbates her clit. She likes it after an evening gym class or weekend game of tennis. She showers 'after' rimming, rather than before.

The real change, though, is that she no longer relies on me for penetration. Her boyfriend does that job. Apparently admirably. I don't know how true it is but she claims she usually cums when they fuck. No need for him manually finishing her off. She said it's mostly because it's the fact that he's her boyfriend and it's the illicit sex that gets her off. But then she's since revealed that several guys before she met me used to be able to make her cum from fucking alone. I admit it's a mind-fuck, whether what she says is true or not.

In order to train me to associate my pleasure with hers, Beth restricted my orgasms to after she's been with her boyfriend. Thursdays is their most common 'hook-up day'. Pretty soon I was willing the whole week to pass, until Thursday lunchtime came round, knowing I'd get to cum on Thursday evening or Friday. But if they missed a Thursday fuck for some reason, I'd miss out too. Initially, when they managed to squeeze in an extra hook-up on a Monday evening, I'd enjoy an additional orgasm on Tuesday too. So I did indeed learn the benefit of their hotel rendezvous.

But once she'd established this mindset, Beth slowly amended the unspoken terms of her dominance. Between her regular hotel visits, my penis was required much less than before. She didn't need penetration from me. My tongue, lips, fingers and toys were enough. We acquired new vibrators (we hadn't used them in a while) and a Chindo (a dildo that straps to my chin). 'Our' sex became all about 'her' orgasms.

Meanwhile, my own rare orgasms are now very functional, clinical, like a visit to the doctor. At night, we kiss, we're usually both naked, we touch, we kind of 'make love' until she orgasms. But when my turn eventually comes round, I strip while she stays dressed, we don't kiss. She simply watches me masturbate. CFNM. She'll say "you have two minutes." It's mostly on a weekday morning. She's already dressed in her suit for work, sat at our kitchen block, drinking her coffee. She hands me her key ring. I'm already in my own suit, ready to drive her to the office. So I rush to lower my pants, fumble with the padlock, get hard, stroke myself.

"One minute." She announces, eyeing me like a nurse. I stare at her white silk blouse, her cleavage, her stockings and heels. Instead of focusing on how good it feels to jerk off at last, I just have to concentrate a hundred percent on getting the job done in time. "Half a minute." She sighs, appearing bored, wiping her lips on the napkin, having finished her coffee.

"Pl ... please may I cum?" I always have to gasp permission. She hesitates. This can now go three ways. Either she'll shake her head and say "not today," or she'll pick up her empty coffee cup and hold it out. The third option is that she'll beckon me towards her with a curled index finger. The fourth possibility is that I run out of time and my two minutes are up. Beth is absolutely ruthless about enforcing deadlines. I'm never allowed to draw my pleasure out.

If she says "not today", I have to stop immediately, and thank her. "Thank you, Mistress, for the opportunity." I rush to the fridge, put ice into a cloth, chill my cock, and lock my Queens Keep back on. Then I drive her to work as if it was any other morning. She never mentions what's happened. She sits in the back, just listening to the radio, or tapping on her phone, and I try and ignore the tightness in my frustrated balls.

But if she holds her cup out at an angle, I have to squirt my load into it within a maximum of ten seconds. She stares at me coolly, expectantly, her pursed lips mouthing ten, nine ... down to one. The cup's tilted so I can point my dick almost into it. I cum as quietly as I can. A couple of gasps, gentle groans, nothing more. Beth demands silence, like it's a hushed medical operation. When I'm finished, she peers into the cup at the coffee dregs and my slimy load. "That's not much?" She raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps you are getting old? Maybe once every two weeks is too often nowadays?" I look at it. My load looks enormous to me; thick, white, gross. Needless to say, I have to take the cup and knock back the contents.

Occasionally, though, when I ask her "please may I cum", she beckons me towards her. This is a sign that she'll take over from here. But it's no ordinary handjob. Beth likes me to have done all the work nowadays, so she only has to finish me off. Fifteen, twenty strokes maximum. And she still hasn't forgotten how. Her varnished red fingernails move mesmerizingly, while I stand to attention, my hands behind my back. I pray for a proper orgasm.

Bear in mind that this is a huge privilege now. Her pleasuring my dick. It's a maybe once in three months event? So far, on one occasion, she continued to jerk me off nicely until I came and my knees buckled in ecstasy. So I never know when she might do that again. I squirt within as few strokes as I can in the hope of encouraging her to carry on rubbing just a few strokes longer.

But apart from that once, she'll bring me to the edge and then let go at the crucial moment. My cock jerks in a ruined orgasm. She stares into my eyes, then down at my quivering dick, and then back at my face, daring me to move at all. I manage not to. I grit my teeth as a single blob or two of cum dribbles down my erection. She checks her fingers to ensure there's no cum on them. But her expression is neither distasteful, nor concerned, nor even amused. Like I said, she's more like a nurse simply doing her job. My balls have been drained. Of sorts. She's all business. "Okay, clean up and drive me to work, we're late."

So within a couple of years, our lifestyle has changed completely, from a kinky couple dabbling in BDSM at weekends, to limited penetration within a Fem-dom marriage, to zero penetration and long periods of chastity. While I've gone from a senior management role in a large company, to redundancy, to employment as a chauffeur and gofer in my own wife's business. In the evenings and weekends at home I do most of our household chores and she has plenty of plans for our future.

And I'm happier now than I've ever been in my entire life.

2. Beth's Story:

I've known I was into S&M since I was fourteen. I can place my age because of the bedroom I was in at the time. My dad was in the military. We moved house a lot. Whenever I masturbated - and given that I was a 14 yr old girl with a vivid imagination – that was pretty much all the time, I used to fantasise about all kinds of things, where I was submissive, or dominant, or oftentimes just a voyeur watching sadistic stuff.

A few years later, I discovered cuckolding. It was the early days of the internet. We had this dial-up connection, painfully slow, but I was like wow, look at all this weird and wonderful shit. Fortunately my parents had no idea how to find a browser history back then! I saw there were guys into sharing their girlfriends and I was like, hey, got to grab me one of those. Of course, I was fantasising really. I didn't have a clue about how to find a guy like that, or have any intention of actually doing so. Besides, in the early porn I saw, all the cuckolds they portrayed were hopeless losers.

So my real life, before Steve, was totally conventional; dates, college, boyfriends, marriage, then divorce, a bit of promiscuity. I was always ambitious. I'm an alpha personality; not just in the bedroom, but in life. I played tennis a lot. All sports, I play to win. I always wanted a career too, my own company. I was never actively against having kids. That could have happened. But they were never in my plan either. It certainly won't happen now. I don't feel unfulfilled not being a mother.

Steve is the best thing to happen to me ever. There's this urban myth that somehow dominant wives must end up not loving, at least not respecting, their sub husbands. Bullshit. I didn't marry Steve for the life we now have. And I wouldn't stop loving him if we didn't have it. It wasn't some wicked scheme of mine to get into this lifestyle. No way.

But I won't deny that I love how things have turned out. In my twenties, I was an unhappy, not particularly nice, person masquerading as a cheerful party-girl and driven career-woman. Now in my thirties, I'm a totally happy person masquerading as a nasty, cruel Domme. Go figure! I'm now living all those dirty fantasies I masturbated to half my lifetime ago. Actually, that's not true. Not 'all' those fantasies yet. I still have a way to go. But we're getting there. I need to bring Steve along for the ride with me. I can't have him fall off the horse!